


Trust in Beauty

by SixofCrowsBabies



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Between Books, Character Study, Gen, I Tried, I'm Bad At Titles, Kinda, Other, Possibly OOC, between books one and two, first fanfic in this fandom in over a year good for me, hopefully not tho, kinda pointless, really bad title, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 09:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixofCrowsBabies/pseuds/SixofCrowsBabies
Summary: The Darkling summons Genya to Tailor his scars...(Set between SaB and SaS)





	Trust in Beauty

**Author's Note:**

> I literally don’t know why I wrote this, why I thought it was okay, but here it is. Reread all three of the books in one weekend and now I feel like making a ton of fanfic.

“Madam,” the serf says as she enters. 

The Tailor looks up from her kit, setting down the bottle of daffodil stems she was refilling. 

“Yes,” Genya says, looking at the servant in what she hoped was a not-frightening way, though with her facial structure it was hard not to look haughty and intimidating. 

_ Oh yes, because everyone was just so intimidated by her before the coup. _

“The Darkling has requested your presence.”

Genya knows what she is needed for. Though the Healers have done the best they can to heal the Darkling’s scars, they remain raised and bright pink. Genya has been dying to fix them for nearly a week. She grabs her kit, snaps it closed, then follows the servant out of the room. 

He sits on a small couch in an otherwise empty room, legs crossed, hands folded in his lap. His eyes flicker towards the door as soon as it opens. 

“Don’t worry, it’s just me, here to attempt to make you pretty again,” Genya says. She closes the door behind her, then walks to the couch. 

“I hope you do more than attempt,” the Darkling responds. 

Genya sets her kit on the floor between them, then awkwardly takes a seat next to him. 

“You know, this would be a lot easier if we were sitting the opposite way around,” she says. 

His pale lips stretch in a half smirk, then he says, “I feel rather comfortable in this spot. I guess you’ll just have to find a way around.” 

Genya doesn’t reply, takes a moment to rub her hands together and tuck her hair behind her ears. 

“Stalling,” says the Darkling. 

She gives him a pointed glare. “Preparing.”

She holds her left hand to his face, a signal for him to turn and better show the right side of his face to her. The scars do look unsightly, marring what would otherwise be a  _ very  _ good looking face. 

_ What a shame it would be, to be scarred because of another.  _

As her fingers brush close to his eye, he flinches and comes close to batting her hand away. She retracts, holding her hands up in a motion that looked as if she was surrendering. 

“Sorry,” she mutters, slipping back into her servant voice. 

The Darkling shakes his head slightly. 

“Your touch is preferable to the Volcra’,” he says. 

After a few more seconds of working, Genya says, “Moi tsar, if you want me to do this correctly, you must stop flinching every time I lay my fingers on you.”

She continues to work, then stops again. 

He opens his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, moi tsar, but you are too tense for me to do my best work,” says Genya. 

“Do you really believe the scars are that bad,” he questions. 

The subject change startles Genya, causing her to not realize he had asked a question until he looked at her. 

“While they are not the worst, I simply cannot resist fixing them, moi tsar,” she answers honestly. 

“You like perfection.”

“No, I like the full potential of something.”

He tilts his head to the side, watching with gray eyes that hold endless curiosity. 

“And you think my full potential is having no scars at all.”

“Well, moi tsar, you cannot think that the scars heighten your beauty,” she says. 

He uncrosses his legs, then crosses them again, the opposite leg on top this time. 

“People trust beauty, Genya.”

She scoffs. “You think I haven’t heard that a million times before? But look where my beauty has gotten me. Bowing and nodding to everything the queen says, acting like the king is at least a halfway decent man. With all respect, moi tsar, I don’t believe people always trust beauty.”

“Oh, but they do,” he replies. “It may not grant you power, but it gets you trust. The king and queen trust you, the girl who always bows twice to them and has the skin of a girl who has never even looked at a knife or gun in her life.” 

Genya pauses. Everything he has just said is true. She may not have power, but she is allowed in their chambers, allowed access to everything they hold dear. 

“I don’t see how this has to do with your scars,” she says after a long moment. 

“It doesn’t,” the Darkling replies, the barest hint of a smile on his face. 

Genya sighs internally. She supposes if you’re a powerful being who will live long, if he isn’t killed within the next few weeks, it’s funny to waste other peoples’ time. Maybe it makes him feel important. 

“What matters is your position,” he says. 

He leans in close, causing Genya to back away. He puts a hand on her hair, holding her still as he holds his face mere inches away from her ear. 

“It assures us that nobody will be suspicious when the king suddenly falls very, very ill,” he murmurs. 

Genya looks up at him, golden eyes widening. “You mean…”

He smiles his crooked smile. 

“Oh yes, Genya. You had best put on your prettiest face tonight.”

Genya nods as she realizes what she must do. She meets the Darkling’s eyes, then looks at her hands, where he has placed a vial of a terrifying-looking substance.

“Now,” he says, releasing her and sitting up straight again. 

“The scars, Tailor,” he says. 

Genya can’t help but think what a remarkable job she did erasing his scars. Standing there, watching him as he addresses the hundreds of Grisha under his control, commanding them to find the Sun Summoner. As he tells them to find and enslave one of her only friends.

The scars are barely even there. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please give kudos and comments if you liked it or felt anything at all, and thanks for reading and buh-bye!


End file.
